


My Sleepless Nights

by faeryn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Drug Use, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester, okay more character death, referenced character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeryn/pseuds/faeryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little Endverse fic focussing on Destiel, will be angsty and probably quite sad. Unrequited love and all that. My summaries are rubbish...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I suck at tags so shoot me a message (or just shoot me) if I need to add/change any! And as always I suck at titles!~ \o/ (I should just name them #1, #2, #3 etc etc hahahahaha)
> 
> I just love Endverse Cas okay? And I saw a gifset/photoset on Tumblr (sorry I can't find it to show you) that was themed that Castiel knew that Dean was sending them to their deaths but he didn't let on because he didn't want to panic the others and he just went along with it for Dean and it made me so sad and then I had the idea for this fic... ^^; 
> 
> There's a really good chance this will just be awful and painful for everyone involved but I will try to throw some fluff in if I can.

Cas’ eyes snapped open as he heard a crash from the other room followed by a hissed shush. Groaning inwardly and rolling his eyes he threw back the bedcovers and rubbed his bearded face wearily. This was the third time this week he’d been rudely awoken and he was starting to grow tired of the disturbance. One more time would make a majority and then he’d _have_  to say something. Grabbing a pill bottle from the nightstand he gulped down two little white tablets without even looking at the label and gently extracted himself from the sleeping girls curled up together in his bed. He stretched languorously, savouring last night’s leftover buzz and hoping the new pills would kick in soon.

Cas dressed in yesterday’s clothes and grabbed the little bag he kept beside the bed, slinging it over his head in one fluid movement then winced as another crash floated through the beaded curtain followed again by the frenzied shushing. Slipping through the beaded curtain with practiced ease he stopped in the centre of the room and looked at the man knelt on his floor, apparently deep in whispered conversation with a metal gong Cas had liberated from some shop a couple of years ago.

“Aw shit,” Dean groaned, flapping his hand at the gong, “now look what you did, you woke Cas, stupid... stupid... thing,” his words were slurred and Cas knew he was well and truly drunk. It was a fine state for their fearless leader, considering how often he lectured Cas about his lack of sobriety, but the former angel knew that his objections would fall on deaf ears.

“What were you going to do, Dean? Collapse on my already very full bed?” Cas leaned down and pulled Dean to his feet, slinging the taller man’s arm over his shoulder for support as he staggered and nearly knocked them both to the ground.

“Dunno,” Dean leaned in to Cas, “mebbe... mebbe your bed could be... less full,” he grumbled.

“Say that when you’re sober and I’ll consider it,” Cas sighed, steering the hunter towards the door and edging them both through the bead curtain and out into the night.

The evening was fresh and warm, the nature sounds soothing Cas as he half walked, half dragged Dean back in the direction of his own cabin. He had always liked to spend time in the wilderness as an angel and he still found the sounds and smells calming. He paused for a moment, lifting his nose to the breeze and enjoying the scent of vegetation on the wind.

“Fuckin’ hippy,” Dean laughed, his head hanging down almost on his chest.

“Filthy mouth,” Cas retorted sharply and continued on.

Before long they were stumbling up the steps to Dean’s cabin and Cas shoved the door open with his hip, a difficult manoeuvre performed easily from plenty of practice. Once inside he shut the door quietly and shuffled them through to Dean’s bedroom, a wave of relief washing over him when he saw Dean’s bed unoccupied. There had been a couple of embarrassing occasions where he’d had to wake Dean’s latest conquest and send her away before he could get the hunter to bed and he really didn’t enjoy the awkward questions that ensued.

He dropped Dean unceremoniously on the bed and then sat on the floor beside it, habitually crossing his legs and leaning forward to undo Dean’s bootlaces. The hunter giggled at the ceiling inanely and Cas reached into the little bag on his hip, pulling out a pill bottle and gulping down another tablet with an exasperated frown. He managed to pull Dean’s boots off and set them neatly aside then swung Dean’s legs up onto the bed, pivoting him around until he was facing the right way. Dean pouted childishly and kicked out, forcing Cas to sit down on the bed beside him rather than fall painfully to the floor.

“Dean...” Cas grumbled, rubbing his face wearily “I really would like to get some sleep tonight, please don’t do this.”

Dean didn’t seem to hear him, just reached out with one hand and grabbed Cas’ pant leg tightly. The opiates were starting to kick in and Cas drifted for a moment, his attention fading out as he rode the wave. Blinking and shaking his head he hadn’t even noticed Dean sit up and wrap his arms around him, burying his face into Cas’ shirt.

“You stink,” Dean said, wrinkling his nose at the smell of stale pot smoke that clung to Castiel.

“So do you,” Cas retorted fondly, the sour whiskey on Dean’s breath a familiar scent to him now.

Dean was clinging tightly to Cas’ shirt, the fabric bunched in his white-knuckled fist as if the former angel would drift away if he didn’t hold him to the ground. Cas slipped an arm around Dean’s waist and gently rested his chin on the man’s head, closing his eyes and letting the drugs work their way through his system. He barely even noticed when Dean took his hand, intertwining their fingers and just sitting there curled up beside him. He knew he should get up, force Dean to go to sleep and go back to his own bed. He knew this, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. It wasn’t _fair_  of Dean to wake him up drunk in the middle of the night then hold him close like this yet all-but ignore him when he sobered up. But despite all that Cas could never quite bring himself to push the man away. In a secret part of himself, buried way down deep inside, he longed for these nights and cherished them when they came. And he knew it was all his own fault anyway, so wouldn’t it be just as unfair to drive Dean away when he was the one who had opened the door in the first place?

It was all excuses, he knew; he just didn’t care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time! 
> 
> Cas has broken his foot, poor lamb, and Dean's pissed off about... well Endverse Dean's generally just pissed off always I think *rolls eyes theatrically* (I didn't realise till I submitted that this is Cas' very first emote in this chapter... I think he's just as done with Dean's attitude as I am *wink* XD)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to finish & post this for a few more days yet as I have a contest piece I need to finish before Monday but someone (I don't want to name her unless she says I can) sent me such a sweet Tumblr message that I just felt compelled to upload the next chapter! <3 
> 
> This may end up being a little longer than I intended, I was only planning one more chapter after this but once it was written I had ideas for at least /two/ more chapters, so you may just get a 4 chapter story instead of 3... but then again more depending on how much writes itself :P

“Cas, you need to just rest up okay?” Dean’s voice was firm and he gripped the rifle slung across his body tightly, tension radiating from him almost tangibly.

“Yeah, great, I’ll just sit here on my ass while you go out risk your life,” Cas shot back with a theatrical eye roll.

“That’s exactly what you’ll do, Cas, do you really think you can help us with a broken foot?”

Dean had been arguing with the former angel for days now ever since an accident had fractured his foot. Cas was very unhappy at being forced to sit at home while the others went out, still unused to not being able to just heal his injuries. It probably hadn’t helped that he’d been guzzling opiates for so long his pain threshold was through the roof and he’d been walking around for two days before finally Chuck had noticed how swollen it was and Dean had forced Cas to let him examine it.

“I can help enough, I’m not an invalid,” Cas snarled. He was sitting on his bed, the offending foot strapped tightly and propped up on a cushion but the other was on the floor and he made as if to get up. Dean quickly crossed the room and pushed him back down, perching on the edge of the bed next to his friend, being careful not to jostle the injured limb.

“Cas, man, I know you wanna help but you’ve got to take care of yourself. You’re not an angel anymore,” this elicited a disgusted snort from the other man and Dean patted his knee fondly, “so you gotta take care of your body.”

“ _You_  take care of my body,” Cas retorted petulantly.

“Man I am  _trying,_ ” Dean laughed and Cas pulled back a bit in surprise. Dean didn’t laugh much anymore, he didn’t _anything_  except angry much anymore. Tilting his head to one side he took in the hunter’s easy expression, wanting to hold the moment in his memory because he wasn’t sure when the next would come. “But you gotta help me out here, Cas, I can’t pin you to the bed but you can’t come hunting with us either.”

Cas grinned, giving Dean a sly look. “You could  _try_  to pin me to the bed,” he suggested with a wink and Dean patted his knee again, this time a little more nervously.

“Look, I’ll come visit you when I get back. Just try not to get yourself into any trouble. Call if you need anything, I’m sure one of your groupies would be glad to do anything for you,” he got up and the easy-going smile was gone, replaced by Dean’s usual sombre mask. “Take care of yourself, Cas.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cas grumbled, waving a hand and reaching with the other for the bottle of pills on the nightstand. Dean quickly swiped them and held them out of reach, taking in Castiel’s hurt expression.

“For medicinal purposes  _only_ ,” he said sternly, “I don’t want to come back and find you’ve overdosed on pain pills, you hear me?”

“Yes, oh glorious leader,” Cas’ rolled his eyes again, voice heavy with sarcasm.

“I mean it, Cas, I’ll take them with me and you can just suffer,” Dean growled and Cas’ eyes widened a little.

“Fine, okay, whatever,” he grumbled, catching the bottle as Dean tossed it back to him.

 

***

 

Cas lay back on the bed, drifting in a fog of bliss.  _Medicinal_  purposes, sure. Cas doubted Dean could have tracked down all of his gear anyway and certainly not in the time before he had to leave on his mission. Colours shifted in his vision and he smiled, closing his eyes to increase their vividness.

“God, Cas, for fuck’s sake,” Dean’s voice sliced through his daydream like a razor and Cas opened his eyes a little, just enough to see Dean standing over the bed. He looked  _pissed_.

“I only took enough opiates to dull the pain,” Cas said truthfully then giggled quietly, “the hallucinogenics were just for fun.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have broken your foot if you weren’t high all the damn time,” Dean growled, his fists clenching in anger.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be high all the time if you weren’t such a massive dick,” Cas shot back lazily.

“Wh-what?” Dean was taken aback; Cas made sarcastic remarks a lot, but he was rarely outright rude. He was much more of a passive-aggressive and  _never_  called names.

“You heard. Swanning around looking all pretty and self-assured,” Cas was treading on dangerous ground and he knew it, he was just finding it hard to care, “screwing any woman who so much as glances your way, then lecturing  _me_  about my habits.” Cas began to laugh loudly, the double-standard as hilarious to the former angel as it was hurtful. “I gave everything for you and it was never enough for you to care,” he continued, unable to cease the incessant giggle.

“Cas...” Dean tried to interrupt but Castiel talked over him.

“Even now I stayed when my bretheren left, I lost my  _grace_  for you and what? I’m just a no-good tripped out junkie to you.” He was all-out laughing now, his situation too absurd for anything else. “Uriel used to mock me, said I shouldn’t allow myself to get so close to humans. He tried to warn me but I couldn’t help it.”

“Cas you know you’re more than a no-good, tripped out junkie,” Dean said sadly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “and you never had to stay for us, we would have understood if you left with the other angels.”

“No Dean, you wouldn’t have. And do you know what felt worse than losing my family? My grace?” Cas opened his eyes and fixed Dean with one of his characteristic intense gazes, his laughter forgotten as quickly as it had come. “Disappointing you.”

Dean broke eye contact and looked down at his hands, sighing heavily. He had no idea what he could say to reassure his friend and he knew Cas was feeling his humanity acutely right now; being bed-ridden didn’t agree at all with the former angel. Dean had always been nothing more than human, he had no idea what Cas was feeling and he couldn’t think of the right thing to say to cheer up his friend. Not for the first time Dean wished Sam were still there to guide him with this chick-flick crap, at least he could have  _related_ a bit, having had power and lost it.

Cas levered himself up on the bed and reached for the pill bottle on his nightstand. Dean caught his wrist and held it tightly, almost painfully, fire in his eyes as he shook his head.

“You’ve had enough.”

Castiel laughed and shook his head. “That’s what I try to tell you when you get deep in the whisky,” Cas chided, “and you never listen – why should I?” He twisted his wrist painfully, the skin reddening immediately from the friction as he tried to pull out of Dean’s grasp. “Let me go,” he snarled, his eyes narrowing angrily as Dean tightened his fingers. Cas felt his bones creak as he twisted again and couldn’t stifle his wince.

“Don’t make me break your wrist, buddy,” Dean growled, trying to make Cas understand he was serious.

“Sure, damage the invalid further,” Cas spat bitterly, twisting again then lunging for the bottle with his other hand while he hoped Dean was distracted. The drugs in his system made his movements sluggish and Dean’s other hand shot out to capture his hand.

They struggled together for a while but it was soon clear Dean had the upper hand. Since his grace had leaked away Cas had to rely on his human muscles and, though his vessel was by no means weak, he couldn’t deny he was not as strong as the lean, well-built hunter. Within minutes Cas was pinned to the bed, looking defiantly up at Dean who just looked angry.

“Now listen to me you idiot,” the hunter said quietly. “You and Bobby are the only family I’ve got left. Sam’s  _gone_ , everything’s gone to hell in a handbasket and I really can’t deal with this childish shit right now. All I care about is keeping you safe and healthy, you stupid prick, and I don’t care if you wanna deal by popping pills or smoking whatever, I can’t exactly talk about healthy ways to deal with your problems. But I’m not gonna let you OD just because you’re pissed you got hurt or because you’re pissed at me for some reason. Man, if you gotta take drugs at least take some uppers once in a while, yeah?”

Cas stared up at Dean, the hunter’s livid face just inches from his own as he ranted. The man really had no idea and Cas had to suppress another giggle. He really  _might_  break Cas’ wrists if he wasn’t careful.

“I’m not pissed at you, idiot,” he said quietly and Dean narrowed his eyes, frowning at Cas in confusion.

“Then why-“ he began but the irrational, carefree part deep down inside Cas broke away at that moment and he leaned up and pressed his lips to Dean’s. Dean was too surprised to draw back right away and his eyes widened in surprise. Cas didn’t push his luck and broke the kiss quickly, licking his lips as he dropped back down onto the bed, his wrists still pinned to his side by Dean’s weight. The hunter blinked a few times then sat up, releasing Cas who immediately pushed up onto his elbows, looking at Dean intensely.

“ _That_  is why I give everything for you, Dean,” he growled, “ _and_  why I have ‘problems’” he made air quotes with his hands, though they were partially obscured by his body, “that I deal with in ‘unhealthy’ ways.”

Dean sat silently for a few minutes, his brain trying to comprehend this new information and failing. He already had so much to think about, so much to worry about just keeping the camp’s inhabitants alive... Lurching to his feet he left Castiel’s cabin wordlessly and the former angel fell back onto the pillows in defeat. It was about the best reaction he could have hoped for – he had expected Dean to shout, or recoil in disgust – but still... he had  _wished_  for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that my portrayal of Cas has a lot of unresolved issues with Dean, I think I may be frustrated by how much of a dick Dean can be at times towards the poor dear XD I also apparently like to write Cas surprising Dean with kisses *giggles*
> 
> As always you can find me on Tumblr wasting my adultery... I mean adulthood ;) faeryn.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets some bad news and turns to his friend for comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for making you all wait! I only really write during the week so I’m very, very sorry, and besides which I had some other things that were stealing my focus, grr! >:[
> 
> Thank you so far to everyone who’s left me lovely comments or kudos, I truly appreciate it! Hopefully this chapter will be worth the wait :) Again, I see this becoming a much longer story than anticipated and I can think of at least another two chapter’s worth of content. Maybe even three more. We’ll so how it goes, if chapters seem to be too short I will probably smoosh them together like I did with the start and end of this one hehe :)

Dean didn’t visit Castiel again for over a week, part of him still recoiling from his friend’s advance and part of him furious at him for both the kiss and his friend’s refusal to take better care of himself. The hunter had hoped breaking his foot might sober Cas to the fragility of his now-human body but no such luck there, Cas just took more pain pills and tried to soldier on. His threshold was still inhumanly high, Dean knew, but he had to remember he  _wasn’t_  invincible.

“Hey, Chuck,” he said one day as the writer approached him nervously, “what’s up?”

“Well, ah, you see...” Chuck trailed off, looking around skittishly.

“...spit it out, dude, I’m busy,” Dean fixed him with a blank look, his hands stilling from their task of cleaning his rifle. Chuck glanced at the dismantled weapon, clearly relieved it wasn’t usable.

“Cas is looking for you, he’s pretty pissed,” the former writer shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “I better get back to inventory,” he said quickly and scurried off before Dean could respond, though his thunderous look spoke volumes.

He continued cleaning and oiling the rifle, meticulous in his gun maintenance and certainly not going to run off to Cas just because he wanted him to. He wasn’t at Cas’ beck and call and Cas needed to be reminded of that. So Dean cleaned his weapons with care and, when he was finally satisfied,  _then_  he went to see Castiel.

Dean pushed aside the beaded curtain and his lip curled in distaste. He had no idea why Cas had insisted on installing the stupid things but it was just another one of the many little quirks his new humanity had brought on. Apparently Cas liked the way they sounded when they clicked together, it reminded him of something – though he refused to say what.

“Chuck said you were pissed,” Dean said as he entered Cas’ bedroom, standing in the doorway and folding his arms.

“Hmpf, I was pissed at him for being a pain in my ass,” Cas retorted, pushing himself up into a sitting position and folding his good foot underneath himself for balance.

“Really? You should probably wait till your foot heals before doing shit like that,” Dean teased, surprising them both. He’d gone in with the full intention of staying angry at Cas but seeing him bedridden and so obviously miserable he found his anger seeping away.

“Hilarious,” Cas rolled his eyes, “did you scavenge that sense of humor up on your latest hunt?”

They both laughed, tentatively at first as they gauged the other’s reaction then more genuinely. When the moment passed Dean grabbed a chair from the other side of the room and dragged it to the side of the bed, still not quite feeling comfortable enough to sit beside him on the bed again. A hurt look crossed the former angel’s face as he realised this but he wisely didn’t mention it.

“Sorry I haven’t been by,” Dean said eventually after a long silence. Cas looked up at him in surprise and then shrugged.

“I’d have come to you but, you know,” he motioned to his tightly bound foot, “and Chuck lectures me if I so much as get up to relieve myself.” Cas gave another of the exasperated looks for which he was rapidly becoming known and Dean chuckled.

“He does have a mother hen problem, doesn’t he?”

“Tell me about it, he hasn’t even let any  _girls_  in here for three days, I’m climbing the walls with boredom.” Cas looked sincerely put out and Dean was taken aback. Cas noticed his surprised look and tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

“I just thought that after, you know, the other week,” Dean’s cheeks tinged pink as he faltered, not willing to finish that sentence. Fortunately Cas caught his drift and gave him a withering look.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Dean, my feelings for you have no bearing on my ability to enjoy the female body. And I certainly have no reason to deny myself after such an emphatic rejection,” he shrugged as if to show his resigned acceptance of the situation.

“Cas...” Dean wasn’t sure what to say; he didn’t want to give his friend false hope but he hated seeing him unhappy.

“It’s okay Dean,” Cas smiled at him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I do understand. I never intended to tell you, I just... wasn’t thinking clearly that day. I do hope it won’t have a lasting negative impact on our friendship.”

And that was just like Cas, setting it behind himself and moving forward having learned from the experience. He may have lost his grace, but Dean knew there was still plenty of angel in the man before him, mortal though he may be.

“We’re cool, Cas,” he said, and meant it. Cas nodded back and then yawned, stretching his knotted back with a little sigh of relief as the bones popped and the kinks worked out of his muscles.

“You rest up, buddy,” Dean said, leaning forward and patting Cas’ knee gently, “I’ll make sure Chuck doesn’t mother you too much okay?”

“Okidokey,” Cas mumbled back, sleep creeping into his voice as he shuffled back down into a lying position and his eyes drooped. Dean was always impressed by how quickly Cas could go from perfectly alert to dead to the world, he was like a cat in that respect. Laughing at his internal joke Dean left the cabin and whistled to Chuck, who had been hovering nearby keeping an ear out for raised voices.

“Don’t stop girls going in, dude, Cas’ll go nuts if he’s just sitting there on his own day in day out. At least give him _something_  to enjoy,” Dean instructed and Chuck nodded, relieved that Cas and Dean were apparently on speaking terms again. “And for god’s sake stop mothering the poor bastard.”

 

*                                             *                                             *

 

It was less than a week later when the letter arrived from Sheriff Mills; with electronic communication virtually nonexistent now they relied on leaving correspondence in mutually agreed pigeon holes and checked them regularly. It was short and to the point: a photograph of her and Bobby in front of his fireplace and a short note.

__

_I’m sorry Dean, we did our best._

_It was quick._

_See you in the next life._

_Jodie x_

 

Dean crumpled the letter in his hand and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing slowly to calm himself. Jodie and Bobby had gone back to his house to look something up in some of the old hunter’s books; Dean had been against sending the crippled man at all but he’d insisted he was the only one with enough knowledge of his collection to find the information quickly and Sheriff Mills had volunteered to go with him for protection. It was hard not to blame himself but Dean knew he couldn’t have left the Camp to go himself and Bobby had wanted so desperately to be helpful. Tossing the crumpled letter angrily into a corner he sank down into his chair and put his head in his hands.

 

*                                             *                                             *

 

Cas sat quietly reading by candlelight when he heard the beads in the other room rattle loudly. He glanced up but when nobody entered the bedroom he went back to his book, guessing someone was fetching something they had left behind some time. He rarely closed his door except in winter when it was too cold to leave it open, he had nothing anyone would want to steal – nothing he wouldn’t share gladly, anyway. The second bead curtain rattled and this time he looked up fully, surprised to see Dean standing in the doorway. His eyes focussed on the darkness, adjusting to the lack of light but he could tell there was something seriously wrong with his friend.

Dean lurched forward and almost fell onto the bed, sitting down heavily with a bump and Cas shifted sideways quickly so Dean didn’t injure his foot further. The former angel noted the almost empty whisky bottle Dean carried and sighed heavily.  _This_  was going to be a fun encounter. He didn’t deal with drunken Dean very often, the man preferring to bother one of the many girls who lived with them at the camp, but it almost always ended in a lecture on both sides or, on occasion, fisticuffs that Chuck inevitably had to break up.

Looking closer, Cas could see Dean’s tear-stained face and his body went cold. This wasn’t the usual ‘end-of-the-world’ bender.

“Dean, what happened?”

“Bobby’s...” Dean gave a strangled sob, “dead,” he managed to choke out, tears running down his face.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” was all Cas could think of to say. He shuffled forward and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Dean took another swig from the bottle and grimaced before offering it to Cas who took it and took a long draught himself. Waste not, want not after all. He put it aside out of Dean’s reach as the hunter sat mutely staring down at his hands.

“’s nobody left,” Dean muttered eventually, tears dripping from his nose into his lap.

“You’ve always got me, useless as I am,” Cas tried to reassure him. He still wasn’t very good at dealing with these extremes of human emotion.

“Yeah... Yeah. Cas, don’t leave me,” Dean said to his hands and Cas squeezed his shoulder gently.

“I don’t have much of a choice in the matter,” Cas tried to joke but Dean didn’t laugh, just sniffed sadly.  “Dean, look at me,” he instructed and, after a moment, Dean met his eyes. Cas had seen him in many stages of emotion before but never grief like this. Absently he wondered if Dean would mourn his eventual death as keenly. “I will  _never_  leave you.”

They sat there in silence a while, the light of the single candle just barely reaching them as they stared at each other, Cas trying to silently offer his support and Dean too drunk and too miserable to think much of anything. Eventually Cas opened his mouth to make another attempt at support when Dean leaned forward and clumsily pressed their lips together.

Cas’ jaw dropped in shock even as he jerked backwards from Dean’s soggy kiss and the hunter laughed ruefully.

“What are you...?”

“Even you don’t want me,” Dean said, his voice half-giggle and half-sob.

“Not when you’re drunk off your ass and grieving, no,” Cas snapped, angry at Dean’s callous cruelty.

“Everything I care about goes to hell, literally,” the hunter croaked and Cas felt a surge of sadness.

“No, you’re wrong, I’m pretty sure they go the other way,” he said quietly, shuffling closer and pulling Dean into a careful embrace. Dean turned into it and put his arms around Cas, hands resting on the small of his back and forehead resting against the invalid’s shoulder.

Cas stroked his hair gently, soothingly and tried to rack his brains to think of what he was supposed to do in this situation. Crying women he could deal with, crying  _Dean_  was another matter entirely. He settled for making quiet shushing, soothing noises as best he could as Dean clung tightly to him, his breath hot on Cas’ collarbone and giving him _all kinds_  of inappropriate thoughts. He shifted uncomfortably and Dean pulled away a little, looking up at Cas.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and his tone was sincere, the tears no longer falling from his eyes but shining brightly in the dim light. He’d regained his control and Cas was relieved. He loosened his arms from Dean’s shoulders and began to pull back with a weak smile when Dean lunged forward, pushing him to the bed and kissing him again, this time more fervently, desperately.

Cas let out a little cry of surprise before giving in to his body’s natural reaction and relaxing into the kiss, sliding his hand up the back of Dean’s head and into his hair. He knew it was wrong, he knew he should push away but... he just wanted this one thing, this one moment of lust for his memory. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

After a few moments he moved his hands to Dean’s chest and pushed him away insistently with a sad little sigh. Dean pulled back in confusion, his lips pink and full from the force of the kiss. Cas shook his head and, with the taste of Dean’s stale whisky on his breath, slid out from under the man.

“Dean, you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re doing-“ he began and Dean shook his head.

“I do, I do,” he said earnestly and Cas’ heart almost broke.

“No, you crave closeness and you know...” he sighed, “I would love nothing more than to comfort you now but I believe it would be best if you just go to sleep.” He pushed Dean carefully down until the hunter was lying on his side, pressing soft, fleeting, chaste kisses to his face whenever he began to protest. “Just sleep, if you feel the same way in the morning then we can talk about it,” Cas said softly, kissing Dean’s eyelids tenderly and stroking his hair until the drunken hunter’s breathing slowed into a steady sleeping rhythm.

As soon as he was satisfied Dean was asleep Cas slipped off the end of the bed, cursing his injured foot, and limped around to the nightstand. He grabbed the bottle of whisky and the little pot of pain pills, gulping down three with the remains of the whisky, his mouth turning down at the taste. How Dean guzzled so much of this stuff he could never understand, it definitely couldn’t beat the sweet tang of absinthe. Limping across the room Cas pulled together some cushions and made himself a little nest using an armchair and settled down to sleep, leaving Dean snoring quietly in his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to present times, sorry! Hope it’s not too confusing for you all that I keep jumping around, hahaha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, two chapters in one day! I must love you all very much ;) (Or I just like writing this too much... one of the two applies I’m sure!)
> 
> This is really kind of just a short bridge chapter between the flashback bit and the present day so I thought I'd upload it as a bonus and then get to work on the next one.

This first thing Dean noticed when he woke up was the blinding headache he felt. He’d never had hangovers as badly as Sam, probably from being a heavier drinker than his little brother, but every now and again one reared its ugly head and he released an annoyed breath.

The second thing he noticed was the weight on his chest and a head of soft, messy hair tickling his chin. Which was particularly strange since he hadn’t remembered going to bed with anyone last night. He’d gotten caught up thinking about Sammy and then there was a bottle of... he groaned and pressed the fingers of his free hand – the other curled around the body holding him down – to his eyes to try and clear his mind. The figure stirred and rumbled a happy noise and Dean’s eyes widened at the distinctly masculine sound.

Castiel bolted upright, pulling away from Dean’s constricting arm with a jerky movement and then flailing as he lost his balance and fell off the bed with a thud. He didn’t remember dozing off, normally he let Dean hold him for a while then went back to his own cabin but he must have been more tired than he thought and drifted off to sleep beside him.

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean said softly, accusingly. As comical as his friend looked sitting on the floor he was furious that he’d woken up with both a hangover and being  _snuggled_.

“No, of course you don’t remember,” Cas fell backwards on the floor until he was flat out, spreading his arms to his sides and sighing heavily, “you never do.”

“What did you  _do?_ ”

Cas laughed at the ceiling, Dean’s accusations comical since he was the one who always had to control himself. “Certainly not what you’d have wanted me to do last night,” he shot back.

“You... what?” Dean was confused and pissed off that Cas seemed to find this hilarious. “It’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s hilarious,” Cas giggled, sitting up and reaching for his little bag, digging around inside until he found the two pill bottles he was looking for. “Usually I leave these on your nightstand; take two and they’ll help with your headache,” he tossed one bottle to Dean and downed two amphetamines from the other orange tube.

Dean caught the bottle and took the pills as directed; he’d gotten used to Cas medicating him when needed, he took enough drugs to be a walking pharmacy so Dean knew better than to argue about it. He tossed the bottle back aggressively but Cas just caught it easily with one hand and dropped it in the bag.

“Usually?” Dean’s tone was as accusatory as it was questioning.

“Yes, usually when you wake me up in the middle of the night blind drunk and begging for cuddles I bring you back here and put you to bed. I wait for you to go to sleep so I know you’re not going to vomit and choke to death then leave you the medicine and return to my own room.” He sighed and shook his head sadly. “I must have drifted off, it won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t, you lying ass, I don’t-“ Dean faltered as Cas fixed him with an icy glare, hurt and anger sparking in his eyes.

“I let you do anything you like within reason, Dean, I never take advantage of you no matter how much you beg me and I always control myself when you are incapable of doing so. I don’t usually mention it even though this is the third time this  _week_  and I never let you pass out in my room so nobody will gossip. But I  _will not_  allow you to accuse me of lying.” He picked himself up from the ground and stood over Dean.

“Cas,” Dean began but Cas whirled away, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he made to storm from the room like a jilted lover, which in a way he was. Dean leapt from the bed and caught his wrist, pulling Cas back to face him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, an edge of desperation in his voice. Cas was his one last true friend and he couldn’t lose him now.

“You shouldn’t a lot of things, Dean,” Cas growled and Dean felt his wrist bones shift as Cas clenched his fists. He was a little afraid the former angel would try to clock him but Cas seemed content with just glaring for now.

“Look, just... can you fill me in?” He motioned towards the table and chairs on the other side of the room.

Cas snorted as Dean released his arm and they settled on either side of the table. “Ever since I broke my foot – do you remember waking up in my bed one morning while I slept on the floor?” Dean nodded mutely, that had been embarrassing but thankfully Cas had tactfully not mentioned it. “Ever since then whenever you get in a bad way you come to me. The things you say to me, Dean,” Cas sounded pained, even tearful though his eyes were clear. “It’s cruel. But I can’t... I know I should just lock the door but I’m afraid you’d try to beat it down or just collapse on the deck to be found in the morning. I assumed you would prefer that this not become common knowledge.”

“I can’t believe-” Dean started but Cas silenced him with a glare.

“You asked me to fill you in so shut up and listen.” He lifted his bag up and began to take things out of it, placing them carefully on the table. “This is my ‘Dean’s a drunken asshole’ bag. Almost everything in here I chose to help you out. There’s pain and nausea medication, antioxidants, even purgatives if I feel you need to void your stomach. Also a few things for me,” he placed those down to one side, away from the significantly larger group of pill bottles, bags of herbs and assorted other things.

Faced with the amount of thought that had gone into this Dean was forced to accept there must be some truth to Cas’ words. “I never...” But he couldn’t finish the sentence, I was going to say he never knew but somewhere deep down he knew that was a lie.

He got flashes sometimes; heated kisses stolen in the night, Castiel pushing him away gently, stroking his hair while he cried or dozed or clung to him. He always thought they were half-remembered dreams, at least he had hoped that, and since Cas never mentioned anything to him he assumed that was the case. Dean glanced at his friend who looked back at him sadly, no expectation in his gaze only resignation. After a while he rubbed his face with his hand, glad his headache was abating and looked again at Cas, who was putting his things away.

“Cas, I can’t...” Dean trailed off, not sure how to continue.

“I know, Dean, believe me.” Cas sat back with a sigh. “I wish you’d cease these... confusing expeditions of yours, but I’m not going to expect anything from you as a result of them.”

“I’ll try I guess?” Dean shrugged and Cas nodded.

“My first suggestion would be to drink less, though I’m certain that won’t be the solution you’ll choose.”

They fell silent again, trying but not quite succeeding to get past the awkwardness that had settled over them like a blanket.

“I think I’m gonna go take a walk, clear my head,” Dean said gruffly, pushing his way up from his chair and Cas nodded and followed suit.

“I think that’s a good idea, I’ll return to my own cabin. If anyone asks tell them you asked me for something to settle your stomach or... something,” he shrugged and, gathering his things, left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I notice because I see it the most, but there are a lot of parallels in my writing; apparently I have a destiel headcanon I didn’t know about that keeps coming through in my stories *laughs* Well maybe I’ll be able to break that in the next one, these two are fun to write about so I’m sure when this one is done I’ll be starting on another ^^  
> Maybe I’ll even break the mould and do a *gasp* different pairing! :O (Don’t hold yer breath though *wink*)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor and things come to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we reconverge with canon. The majority of the dialogue in this chapter is from the episode and I’ve just filched it from a wiki page :P So, obviously, all that dialogue belongs to the CW or the writers or whatever, not to me. I’ve kind of taken liberties with their thoughts and actions though. I’m pretty sure you should be able to tell where I’ve drifted away from the canon timeline/script *laughs* I’d say “if it’s gay in any way it’s probably mine” but... well... this is Supernatural so... probably wouldn’t help.
> 
> I haven't written in /all/ of the episode interactions because honestly I didn't think it would bring much more to the fic other than length and unnecessary reading of shit we already know. Hopefully it doesn't lose too much from lacking these parts and you guys can fill in any blanks yourselves <3
> 
> Sorry in advance for any random tense changes, I try to write in past tense (idk exactly why?) but since the script I was working from was in present tense I noticed I flicked between the two a little bit when adding the non-dialogue writing. I've tried to fix it wherever I noticed it but do point it out if I missed any.

“Oh, excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute,” Cas dismissed the women assembled in his cabin quickly, trying not to think about how his heart skipped a beat when Dean entered. He stood up and stretched languorously, trying to give off a casual air.

“What are you, a hippie?” Dean’s tone was incredulous and Cas rolled his eyes as he arched his back, stretching out the tight muscles.

“I thought you’d given up trying to label me,” he sighed back – this was clearly not going to be a heart-to-heart.

“Cas, we got to talk,” Dean sounded off and Cas was confused; hadn’t they only talked that morning? Perhaps this was more likely to be a heart-to-heart than he’d thought. Turning to face his visitor he pulled back in surprise.

“Woah, strange,” Cas frowned.

“What?” Dean retorted automatically.

“You... are not you. Not ‘now’ you, anyway.” Cas frowned at his friend, closely examining his face. There were less lines, less tenseness in his jaw. Dean seemed anxious but... so much more relaxed that the Dean Cas knew.

“No! Yeah, yes, exactly,” Dean nodded, relieved Cas understood.

“What year are you from?”

“2009.”

Cas sighed heavily, this was just what he needed, another Dean. “Who did this to you, is it Zachariah?”

“Yes.” Dean’s answers were clipped and Cas sighed again, wishing he could alleviate his friend’s anxiety.

“Interesting...”

“Oh yeah, it’s friggin’ fascinating. Now,” he clapped his hands expectantly, "why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly me back to my page on the calendar?"

Castiel stared at Dean for a second before his face split into a grin and he chuckled. "I wish I could just, uh, 'strap on' my wings but I'm sorry - no dice." Cas continued to chuckle, shaking his head. 

"What are you, stoned?" Dean was losing his patience.

"Uh... generally, yeah," Cas stifled a giggle.

"What happened to you?" 

"Life." Cas shrugged, there wasn't much more to tell. Dean stared at him in disbelief then whirled away and stormed from the cabin. 

Cas watched him go, a smile playing about his lips. This was going to be interesting. He moved to the window and watched as Past Dean got into an altercation with Present Dean then barked a laugh as Past Dean was hauled off. This was going to be  _very_ interesting.

 

~

 

The next time Cas saw Dean he was being called into a meeting with the rest of Dean's most trusted people. He often wondered why he was involved in these little pow wows, since all he ever really brought to the table was sarcastic remarks, but nonetheless Dean always asked him to attend and he could never refuse Dean anything. 

Cas listened as the others spoke but kept his eyes discretely on Past Dean, watching the younger man's reactions. When he mentioned Dean's interrogation methods Cas was unsurprised to see Past Dean react with shock and indignation. It pleased him, though, to know that these methods were abhorrent to Dean's previous self. Sometimes Cas had wondered if Dean had chosen to use the skills he learned in hell for the right reasons, but at least he was now reassured that five years ago Dean had found the idea repugnant. 

He laughs at Past Dean's comment and shrugs off Dean's ire, more than used to being the recipient of disapproving glares by now. 

As they talked Cas schooled his features, realising the severity of the situation. This wasn't just a mission to kill Lucifer, they weren't in all of this together. They were decoys... It was a suicide mission. He risked a glance at Dean who looked back at him steadily, warning him mutely not to say anything.

"Okay. Well, uh, I'll get the grunts moving," he said wearily, heaving himself out of his chair and leaving the cabin. 

Cas didn't mind dying for Dean, it wouldn't be the first time. If he was truthful to himself, it was a relief really. No more sleepless nights being woken by Dean stumbling around his front room. No more feeling his heart ache every time he had to sit and make sarcastic remarks in the middle of briefings instead of what he truly wanted to say. 

_Don't go._

_Don't leave me._

_I love you._

_Please stay._

Cas took a deep breath to steady himself and released it slowly. He had to do his job first, he could think about the other things later. 

 

~

 

If he was surprised that Dean asked him to drive Past Dean to the rendezvous Cas didn't show it. Tossing back a couple of pills once they were on the road, Cas sighed and hoped they would kick in soon.

"Let me see those," Past Dean said gruffly from the passenger seat.

"You want some?" Cas was surprised as he passed them over but Past Dean just glanced at the bottle disapprovingly.

"Amphetamines?" 

"It's the perfect antidote to that Absinthe," Cas replied happily.

"Mmm. Don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh. I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what's going on—w-with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?" Dean sounded genuinely concerned and Cas' heart gave a thump. It had been a while since Present Dean had shown that much concern for him - while sober, in any case.

To hide his sudden rush of affection for the man Cas laughed, remembering Past Dean asking him to strap on his wings. 

"What's so funny?" Dean was annoyed now, frowning in irritation.

"Dean," he tried to sound serious, "I'm not an angel anymore."

"What?" Dean's eyes widened and Cas smiled ruefully.

"I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of— psshhew!—drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, Dean, I'm all but useless. Last year, broke my foot, laid up for two months." He tried not to think about those two months, wasn't sure why he'd even mentioned it, it wasn't exactly relevant.

"Wow." 

"Yeah."

"So, you're human. Well, welcome to the club." Dean was genuinely sympathetic and Cas felt that surge of affection again; it was good to be reminded of the man his Dean had once been, kind and compassionate. 

"Thanks. Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It's the end, baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that's, that's just how I roll."

They fell into an uneasy silence and Cas focussed on driving for a while, sneaking glances over at Dean whenever he could. Dean was lost in thought and gazing out of the window pensively, which allowed Cas plenty of time to study him. 

"Dean?" He said eventually, startling the man. 

"What's up Cas?"

"Do you..." he frowned and sighed, "are you fond of the Cas in your time?" 

"Fond...?" Dean looked genuinely confused. 

"Do you care about him?" 

Dean goggled at him. "Of course I care about him! He can be a monumental dick at times but he's still my friend." 

Cas laughed; Dean's unwavering honesty was always one of the things he loved most.

"The Dean of this era doesn't care much for me, I fear," he said quietly, "or at least..." He sighed again, frowning out through the windshield. "You are very confusing, Dean."

"What d'you mean, Cas? You're always so cryptic," Dean snorted in irritation.

"Dean, can you promise me that whatever you think of me will not color how you think of the Cas from your own time?" 

"Well sure, I mean, he's not exactly down with the sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll like you are," Dean sounded confused. 

"Good. Remember that you promised." Cas took a deep breath. "Last year when I broke my foot I... kissed you. Well not  _you_ obviously. Current Dean. It didn't go well. I don't know how your future will pan out but I feel like I should warn you, for his sake, that he might make the same mistake I did. Try to go easy on him, please?"

Cas fell silent, not exactly sure what he'd been trying to do. Dean beside him was silent too, his face schooled into a blank mask as his mind raced. 

"Why'd you say mistake?" Dean asked eventually, staring resolutely out of the window as if he couldn't bear to look Cas in the eye. 

"Because it was. I wasn't thinking clearly, I was on some pretty hefty pain meds. Things between us... they've never been quite the same." Cas wanted nothing more than to tell Past Dean that Present Dean tried to wheedle his way into Cas' bed every time he got drunk, but he didn't want to make things even more awkward and in any case he didn't think it would do anything except lower Past Dean's already pretty low opinion of the Dean from this time. 

Dean looked over at Cas, an odd expression on his face. Cas glanced back and raised an eyebrow before returning his focus to the road.

"What an ass," Dean snorted and resumed staring out of the window.

 

~

 

"Dean, can I have a moment?" Cas asked as Dean returned to the group with a face like thunder, and without his past self.

"Can it wait?" 

Cas raised an eyebrow, silently making it clear he knew that it couldn't.

"Fine," Dean nodded and the pair of them slipped away while the others kept watch. "What is it, Cas?"

Cas took a deep breath and then let it out slowly through his nose. "I know after today..." he shrugged. "I just wanted to thank you for putting up with me. You didn't have to after I lost my grace but you did. You taught me how to hunt, how to look after myself. I... I'm grateful. Thank you. I wanted you to know that before..."

Dean frowned at him and Cas looked away. He hadn't wanted to make Dean uncomfortable, but he knew this was going to be his last chance to say these things.

"Oh for god's sake c'mere," Dean sad eventually, grabbing Cas' wrist and pulling him into a hug. "Of course I had to, you idiot, and I wanted to." 

Cas rested his forehead against Dean's chest, arms at his sides, not wanting to move in case he spooked Dean into pushing him away. 

"I'm just sorry I..." Dean trailed off and shrugged then tightened his grip on the smaller man and Cas felt him press a light kiss into his hair. He smiled, thankful all over again for this small mercy he was being granted. He decided it was worth the risk and lifted his arms, curling them around Dean's waist lightly and pulling Dean the last few centimetres until they were pressed together. They stood like that for a moment longer but they knew it couldn't last and soon broke apart. 

There was no awkwardness, no flushed embarrassment, only understanding between them. Things could have been different, Cas knew, but it was too late now. Nodding to each other, they headed back to the group and set the mission under way. 

 

~

 

"'Nah'? You telling me you haven't learned your lesson?" Zachariah was almost apoplectic at Dean's flippant refusal to play ball.

"Oh, I've learned a lesson, all right. Just not the one you wanted to teach." Dean tried to stay calm, keep his tone casual. 

"Well, I'll just have to teach it again! Because I got you now, boy, and I'm never letting you—" 

Dean turned and his heart skipped a beat as he saw Castiel standing in front of him, all rumpled suit and overlarge trenchcoat. 

"That's pretty nice timing, Cas," he quipped, just barely resisting the urge to pull the man into a grateful hug.

"We had an appointment." And there was the Castiel Dean knew, serious and dependable. Dean settled for clapping his hand to Casiel's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, wordlessly expressing his gratitude.

"Don't ever change." 

Castiel looked almost amused but didn't comment. "How did Zachariah find you?"

"Long story. Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses from now on, okay?" Dean pulled out his phone and began typing a number into it.

"What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done in the first place." 

Sam answered after just a few rings, surprised to hear from Dean. They had a brief conversation and Castiel tried not to eavesdrop, although he could hear every word.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sam," Dean said finally and hung up before Sam can respond. 

"I should get you to your car," Castiel said, starting forward and raising his hand to transport Dean back to the Impala.

"Wait," Dean said quickly, holding up his hands but not moving away. Castiel looked confused, frowning and tilting his head to the side and Dean can't help but smile at the familiar mannerism. "Listen, everything I saw at the end... that was... it was horrible, okay? But the worst of it was seeing myself treat you like shit, sacrificing you with the other grunts. I can't... I wouldn't do that, okay Cas?"

"I know you wouldn't, Dean," and a small smile crosses Castiel's face, so unlike the stoned grins of the Cas of 2014. 

Dean took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through his nose. "C'mere," he said, raising his arms and flicking his fingers until Castiel stepped forward tentatively until he was fully in Dean's personal space, confused since he was usually being asked to move in the  _other_ direction. Dean curled his arms around the angel's shoulders and pulled him in the last few centimetres until their bodies were almost touching. Castiel rested his forehead on Dean's chest, standing stiffly with his arms at his side. 

"You can always tell me anything, Cas," Dean mumbled. He was messing this up, he knew it, but he didn't want to see Castiel suffer the way Future Cas had suffered. He saw the pain in his eyes, the pain he tried to numb with drugs and alcohol and so many women. He felt Castiel sigh under his arms and then, gently, tentatively, arms circled his waist and rested there gently. 

"I know, Dean."

Dean smiled and pressed a gentle kiss into Castiel's hair, resting his lips there far longer then he should and breathing in the angel's citrus-and-cut-grass scent. They stood there in the darkness for a long while, not even startled when a car sped by on the road. 

"Dean?" Castiel said eventually and Dean loosened his arms just enough for the angel to lean back and look up at him. 

"Yeah, Cas?" It felt like a moment out of time, the two of them staring into each others eyes, embracing not out of fear or relief but just pure, simple affection. 

Castiel looked like he always did, intense and unwavering. Then his gaze softened almost imperceptibly and before Dean could move or think he leaned up the last few inches and brushed Dean's lips gently with his own, his hot coffee-scented breath washing over Dean's face and making the taller man shiver slightly as he tried to lean forward and return the kiss. 

"Don't ever change."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I really suck at writing endings!! I really really do. I just wanted to make it less heartbreaking. I knew from the beginning I was going to write it with the canon ending and the unrequited love unresolved - at least mostly.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read this, left comments, left kudos or swung by my tumblr. I love and appreciate you all! Hopefully my next work will be better <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always you can find me on Tumblr! On my [main blog](http://faeryn.tumblr.com) or my [very quiet writing sideblog.](http://faerynfics.tumblr.com)


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